Chewing On Glass Presents… West End Love for All the East End Girls…

“So, are we doing this or what?” He asks me for the thirteenth time in the last five minutes. “We need to do this,” he reminds me once again. “We or you need to do this?” I ask barely looking away from my phone. “I’ll slap that thing right out of your hands,” he threatens. “I’m sure you will,” I sigh but I’m not putting away my phone. “Look you need to do this. You are in a rut,” he pauses rethinking his words. “No, you are stuck in some ditch in the middle of nothing town,” he declares. Should have thought harder I think to myself. “Well, I’m not stuck anywhere. I am choosing to be in the middle of nothing town because I want to be,” I let him know. “No one chooses to be in nothing town. Someone chooses it for them or they are there by happenstance,” he tries to recover. “Fun fact I am someone and this is where I have chosen to be,” I say in an abrupt tone signaling I am done with this conversation. “Okay fine, I need this,” he concedes. “Now will you come with me?” I shake my head no.  “I need a second you know that,” he whines. “I’m not dragging my ass across town. I’m just not,” I proclaim once again. “I’m not shitting where I eat,” he admits. “Never stopped you before. I’m pretty sure your bathroom is right next to the dining area in that trash apartment,” I joke. But then I realize what this is really about. I have the nicer apartment. What a little snake, I think to myself. “Okay, you have me there. Correction I have shit too much where I eat. Is that better,” he smiles trying to get on my good side. “Didn’t we just go out the other night?” I ask deciding on a different way to get out of this other than pointing out I am better off than him. “Yeah, but you are single now. So, we can go out more. Maybe even twice a week,” he suggests. “Twice a week?” I ask my eyes growing wide. “That’s pushing it don’t you think?”

Before I know it I am driving his ass to the other side of town to haunt the usual spots. We don’t come here much anymore and for good reason. He tries to hand me a bottle from under his jacket. “Are you kidding me right now?” I ask pissed off. “Do you have any idea how many cops are staked out on this side of town,” I bark. “That’s what makes it even more fun,” he tells me before taking a swig. I shake my head as he puts the cap back on. “Just a little pre-gaming,” he smirks putting the bottle back in his inside jacket pocket. “You need to learn to find your center without alcohol,” I tell him. “Yes, Master,” he claps his hands together and lowers his head. Not amused I keep on driving and ignoring him. “I’m seeing a lot of ladies that should be having my baby,” he quotes excited behind the glass. If he wasn’t my only friend I wouldn’t hang out with him either. “No one should be having any of your children ever, Jackson.” That is a fact for a lifetime. “It’s lyrics to a song. I don’t literally want a child, ever,” he rolls his eyes in annoyance at my lack of excitement for this evening. “Could you imagine?” He asks staring out the window. “I mean how does someone like me, like us, not literally carve the child right out of the womb?” He ponders into his reflection. His voice turning cold as it often does at times like these. “Could you imagine how boring it would be to wait for the thing to come out? Then have to actively try to keep it alive,” he shivers. “Plenty of our kind do it all the time,” I remind him. “Yeah, because they don’t know what they are,” he says turning to me. “I take it you have decided?” I ask looking over to him. “Yeah, I think I have,” he returns his gaze to the streets. “Let’s get ourselves a pregnant one,” he grins. His sinister smile reflecting back to him in the rolled up window.

Something sinister this way comes… no idea why I am saying that… as of right now… it is a one off… something dark to pass the time… Tried to keep it a story for the whole family… snuck a few shits in there though… haha… I guess I could have said crap instead… “I don’t want to crap where I eat”… nope… I like shit better…

Fun little one off story… enjoy the rest of your day… try not to look at the eyes as they pass you by… and wonder what they are thinking about… most of all hope you don’t see me… and wonder the same thing… (over produced sinister laugh)…

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Not All Black Cats Are Bad Luck…

Adopt Your Very Own Today…

Here… If You Dare…

Teething On Concrete… Therapy For The Soul…

It Has Arrived…

Is That A Funeral? Proudly Announces The Next Great Chapter In All Things Layne Ambrose…

A Poetry Collection Like No Other…

Seriously…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

Here…

Scarping its way into the world. Teething On Concrete is the newest collection of poetry by Layne Ambrose. Sobering, haunting, and downright depressing. Ambrose takes us on a journey the only way he knows how. Across the razor blades of his mind. Ambrose’s take on what it means to live will not be forgotten any time soon. Whether you are preaching, kneeling, or teething on concrete this collection is here to satisfy all your needs.

“Putting this down wasn’t much of an option.”
M.T. Billings, Shaky Town Rebellion

“Jesus…”
Sylvia Ambrose, Cover Artist

“Concrete never tasted so good.”
Korbin Copy, Is That A Funeral?

Teething On Concrete

If Only I Knew How To Swim…

I Haven’t Even Began To Peak

This self-sacrificing bullshit is getting old
Your poisonous fangs can no longer take a hold
I wish for something better
Only come up with more excuses
The way things are going, there’s no real way of knowing
What is truth and what is a lie
Everything you are conditioned to believe
I despise
Tormented by my own mind
Can’t seem to focus even for a moment
My own worst enemy with me at all times
If I give up now which part is the lie
Three years and counting
Adding up to something I don’t realize
Giving away everything one word at a time
Tomorrow maybe, but today I don’t know
Not sure how it is I ever will
Left wondering, left out in the cold
I know there is an end but where to begin
Lost in tranquility, Lost in retaliation
Full of words with nothing to say
Revenge is everything and nothing
A steaming pile of shit I have to get through
Letting go seems to be the hardest part
When this self-sacrificing bullshit is getting old
When all the unused words build up in my head

Buried Under Three Feet of Shit

Can’t stop this even if I tried
Thousand Broken bones
Blood dripping from every wound
A fucking mess
Still going strong
Still going after all and everything
What stops the will to live when you are already dead?
Contradict myself with a mouth full of shit
Bending back my neck to understand any of this
Twisting and pulling until it connects
What makes up a soul
Makes us whole
Worthlessly sinking in a sea of shit and piss
If only I knew how to swim
Could I then know what it means to live
What if I already did but only refused?
Compound fracture, compound interjection
Still hanging on by a thread, a lifeline attached to nothing
With all the answers locked in my head
Head pulled back I’ve learned all that I have been told to know
Kicking under the surface still going under
Education is nothing more than an endurance test
Testing everything I know against everything I don’t
Strange how I once thought now I just forget
Going on is harder against the undertow
Going forward is harder pressed upon the wall
Going on seems to be the hardest part after all
Circumstances uncertain, left for dead, three feet under
A bed, a sea, an existence of shit


Well if that doesn’t sum up the year that was 2020… I’m not even going to waste my time in hoping next year will be any better… expectations are just a let down at this point… all hope isn’t gone… but would it make a difference anymore if it was?…

Also I know how to swim… well I haven’t drowned yet… so you can infer whatever you like from that… for some reason I feel that you need to know this… I’m not even proud of that fact… given that I won’t even get in a body of water… cesspools full of shit… you’d think I would feel at home… but I don’t…

Ready to get to this new year already… and leave last year in the past… that is saying a lot… considering as each day passes… that is one less day that I never had… feelings get lost in the emotions… ideas get buried under the thoughts… and I seem to disappear as each day goes on… How is any day different… if it is all one long day to begin with?… Yeah… I’m ready to face the new year and everything that comes with it…

Happy New Year From Everyone At Is That A Funeral?…

That Is A Cat On A Hoodie…

Not Just Any Cat… But A Demon Cat…

Which Means… It Will Keep You Extra Warm…

(Demon Cats Aren’t Real… Also We Have No Way To Prove This… That Cat Though Was Super Psycho… Haunted By Something From Another Dimension… That Photo Wasn’t Even Manipulated… Yeah… Let That Sink In… Demon Cat In My Book…)

Get Yours Today…

Stay Warm And Help Spread The Word…

If It Doesn’t Kill… Then It Doesn’t Hurt?…

After so many rejections it becomes so much easier to ignore the vultures that come circling around my rotting corpse. Letter after letter. Email after email telling me they wish me well. Words copied and pasted as hollow as my soul. All of this self-mutilation for one person to just be like, “This is alright.” That’s all it takes. At least that is what they say. Who the fuck are, is this they? They never shut up like the voices inside my head. Constantly driving me into the grave.

Overnight is all that it takes and all you need is one semi-interested interest. So, I keep stabbing head. Cutting a piece of myself off little by little until there is nothing left. Then all of sudden, out of nowhere, “We’d love to work with you.” What the hell does that even mean? I’m in the business of cuts, gushing wounds, and scars. I have no prior experience in this kind of reaction. The messages come flooding in. Email after email the tides begin to change. Then the calls start coming in. “How the fuck did you get this number?” All of a sudden you are all there is. All there will ever be.

They say success goes to our heads. Not true. It is fucking bitterness. “Oh, now I’m something?” I want to scream. I want to beat the phone against the desk. “Last week I wasn’t much of anything. Last year when I was practically begging, hanging on by a lifeline, and unfortunately I wasn’t a good fit for Flowers Monthly. Now all of a sudden I am something?” It only takes one, but a thousand submissions later everyone can fuck off.

It isn’t success it is bitterness to the whole process that pushes everything along. Do you think after this sea of rejection you will be receiving anything of actual value? I mean I’m so special all of a sudden? Well here is the material I wouldn’t even put in my book. Here is the stuff I dug out of the trash after I wiped my ass with it. Keep everything. Sold out you say or getting even? Depends on what side of the screen you live on. An asshole or apathetic is up to you to decide. I have moved on. I have accepted that the vultures will take whatever of me is left. I sold my soul and I’m even more proud to admit that I don’t care. Check out my newest piece in Flowers Monthly, and don’t forget to like and subscribe. Food isn’t free and electricity isn’t cheap.

Rejection is never fun… you get used to it… I think… I’m used to it at this point… the hardest part of not writing about… like… for everyone else… is that you will face a lot of rejection… at least that is what my mom says… haha… So what do you do then?… After the bottom falls out once again?… After everything in you feels as though it has died once again?…

Well you get back up and do it again… I mean what else did we have to do today?.. Failure only happens when you give up… so I move the rejections to the rejections folder in my Gmail… and fire off another round of submissions… This business isn’t for the faint of heart… it isn’t for those who are willing to cave at the slightest resistance… creativity is a never ending battle with yourself and everyone around you… it isn’t bloody… and it always hurts… but don’t let it kill the dream left inside… I’m not going to give up and neither should you… and when you get there… don’t forget about the ones that got you there…

Thank you for all your support… every little bit helps… every like… review… comment… purchase… shout out… and even every negative response… We don’t do anything alone…

Happy Holidays… From those of us at Is That A Funeral?..

Still Sitting On Some Cancelled Tour Merch…

Check It Out Here

Huffing Glass 102… Titles And How They Can Mean So Many Things…

Seeing how there aren’t actually classes going on… or maybe there are… I have no idea what to expect when nothing is to be expected… 2020 anyone?… has all infected us all… even if you live under a rock like me… going to be honest because what else do I have to offer this world?… I do not remember the format for this type of post… Huffing Glass 101… you can use a search engine… I could too but where is the fun in that?… What I do remember… well what I wrote in my notes… is that today’s… lesson?… discussion?… would be about Titles… obviously not about grammar… Thank God or I’d have to issue refunds for this class… But enough small talk… let’s get into this…

Titles… I love them… possibly my favorite part of writing… wait don’t you write short stories… long ass poems… and most of your website is filled with Broken Thoughts?… Well yeah… but they all have to be titled none the less… for most writers… honestly I don’t know… for most of us… titles don’t come first… for me they do… I get hyped by the title… just as I hope you do… the title reels me in the same way it is meant to reel in everyone else around me… Of course like all things in writing… titles evolve over time… Many of my titles start very long… for instance… my first short story collection is called… Drinking Bleach to Stay Alive… but now I just call it Drinking Bleach… Oddly enough now that I think about it… A Lie… has always been A Lie… I never had more than that…

But what is so important about a title to me?… Why do I spend so much time on something that will only be read and referenced over and over again?… I actually don’t spend that much time on them… most of them are spur of the moment… and that moment leads me to writing a story or concept behind them… that sounds great… now lets go… This is the case most of the time… sometimes I have no idea what the title will be until the last second… usually that involves poems though… Long form stories… I usually come up with a title and then build a concept from there…

My most recent book… Teething On Concrete… was written like this… kind of… granted it is a poem collection so the poems were written in advance… for the most part… nothing is finished until it makes it into the book though… and during the editing process for Concrete… I did tailor the poems to fit this new concept… Originally the book was to be called Black Cloud Rising… before that though it was Fell On Dark Days… for obvious reason I chose to do neither title… but for over a year that was the concept of the book… based on those titles… The only reason any of it changed was because I became obsessed with the title Teething On Concrete

It is dark… check… it is weird… check… it conveys a thought in my head… sold… Teething On Concrete… is more than just three words… it is a concept… it conveys… that something is going on… How does someone find themselves teething on concrete?… Why would someone even do that?… Think that?… Have to read the book to find out… There is more to it then that of course… because that is how writing and life works… but that is the main point of what a title does for me… it guides me to a certain goal… My next two projects will do the same…

My next novel is titled Fuck… I Hate It Here or I Hate It Here… (I’m sure that sentence was confusing with the ellipse in the title… but everything has to start somewhere…) Yeah… eight years into a book… I’m still not sure what the title will finally be… You can guess which one I prefer… but it isn’t testing well around the office… It also wasn’t the first title I came up with either… No… originally it was going to be titled… Chewing On Glass… but it didn’t fit the concept of the book I wanted to create… well it did in the beginning but as things progressed during the first round of concepts… it wasn’t the direction I wanted to go… In case you are interested I’m on concept three for this fucking book… but that is a rant for another time…

Basically titles are fun… should be fun… they should make you want to read the story as much as they should make anyone else want to read your story… in my opinion… I personally can’t pass up a good title… seriously I will buy a book based on title alone… Tortured For Christ… I’m a sad desperate person like that… I love me some titles… They say don’t judge a book by its cover… and I don’t… but I can’t pass up some well thought out words burned across it…

So what are some of my favorite titles that I didn’t come up with but I wish I did?… Well thanks for asking…

As I Lay Dying by William FaulknerQuite possibly the best title for any book ever… also the only book by Faulkner that I have actually gotten through… and enjoyed… Also one of the first books I decided to read that wasn’t pushed on to me by school or an institution…

Though to be fair… I thought it would make an amazing band name… turns out I was right… So I had to read it to see if it was worth naming my band after because of course the press was going to ask me questions about it… yeah… young Ambrose was a dreamer… still is… this was all before I found out that a band already took the name and ran with it… I was pretty bummed when I found out…

I can’t say that I love this book though… the story isn’t for me… good or bad is up to you… what I did take way from this book though… was the concept… to this day this book is one of the first bricks laid in me that I want to be a writer… so again good or bad is up for debate… it is pretty crazy the way we get here… but it doesn’t matter as long as we get here I guess…

Last Exit To Brooklyn by Hubert Selby Jr.Not what I thought it was going to be at all… so much more than a simple title… not for the faint of heart… but a masterpiece all the same… I enjoy the basic title against the complexity of the stories… This title has influenced me to think outside of the most obvious titles… or that a book’s title can mean more about what the book is about than the stories themselves… A title is much like the bassist in a band… it must play along with the rest of the band… but it needs to be its own thing as well…

Astro-Creep: 2000 – Songs of Love, Destruction and Other Synthetic Delusions of the Electric Head by White ZombieMixing it up here… not a book of course… but an influence title none the less… This title doesn’t jump off the page… there is a lot going on here… and that is what I like about it… Rob Zombie does this often… just about every album and I find myself doing the same thing…

In closing titles can mean a lot of things… they can influence the way you read a story… they can grab you from out of nowhere… they can drive you to write a whole book… titles are where it is at… and this has been more than enough glass to huff for today…

What are some of your favorite titles?… What does a title do for you?…

Now Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

Poetry Never Tasted So Good…

Please Don’t Eat the Books Before Paying For It…

Gums Bleeding… Teething On Concrete…

It Has Arrived…

Is That A Funeral? Proudly Announces The Next Great Chapter In All Things Layne Ambrose…

A Poetry Collection Like No Other…

Seriously…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

Here…

Scarping its way into the world. Teething On Concrete is the newest collection of poetry by Layne Ambrose. Sobering, haunting, and downright depressing. Ambrose takes us on a journey the only way he knows how. Across the razor blades of his mind. Ambrose’s take on what it means to live will not be forgotten any time soon. Whether you are preaching, kneeling, or teething on concrete this collection is here to satisfy all your needs.

“Putting this down wasn’t much of an option.”
M.T. Billings, Shaky Town Rebellion

“Jesus…”
Sylvia Ambrose, Cover Artist

“Concrete never tasted so good.”
Korbin Copy, Is That A Funeral?

Teething On Concrete

Chewing On Glass Presents… Into the Flames of Where This Began…

Into the Flames of Where This Began

“Tell me about God,” she demands in a scream. “Tell me about power and life and the will of man. Tell me about everything I already know. Everything I already am,” she screams with all the air in her lungs. We took everything from her and now she wants to return the favor. “Why?” Is all I can manage to say through the pain. “Why not?” She asks curiously back. A break from all the pain that she is feeling. All the pain she is pushing onto me. My mind finally doesn’t feel as though it is on fire. “Why not talk now? That’s all anyone wanted to do before, and now everyone wants to just go quiet. Is it because you all figured out just how powerful I truly am?” The bodies of our once mutual friends lay next to my feet. “Everyone thinks, everyone thought I was so weak. That little miss me with her fragile bones could do nothing. I’m powerful, in a world full of powers I am the most powerful and that makes you scared. It makes all of you scared,” she stares me down waiting for a response. “So, you have proven. You’ve proven your point Emily. Now let’s end this. This isn’t you. This isn’t how we were trained,” My voice goes silent.

Her eyes light up in anger, “Trained?” The pain comes back once again. The feeling of fire running through my veins, through my mind, and through my very being. “I wasn’t trained. I was left behind or have you forgotten?” She asks through the pain. “I never forgot you,” I try my best to say through the pain. “Wrong Nathan, you are wrong. You all forgot about me. Even you. You all left me behind,” she says. The fire inside my head increases, “Because we cared.” I fade in and out of consciousness as my knees hit the hard ground. “Please stop,” I barely manage to beg. “Stop what? Being the woman that you fear? I could have been so much more, but you and every one of them wouldn’t let me. You wanted me to be quiet, to be locked away, but I will no longer be locked away Nathan,” she says with the confidence of a God. “I never,” I try to say. “But you did any way,” she declares as everything around me fades into darkness. “I never wanted any of this,” I try to say through the darkness of my mind. The lost connection of my consciousness. Am I alive or dead? “Welcome to my world,” her voice echoing through my head. Through the pain. Through it all.

Through a haze of confusion I awake in an empty field next to those I once could call friends. Their bodies lay broken, bleeding, and lifeless next to me. I use every ounce of strength to bring my own broken body to its knees. The ground around us is torn to shreds. Pieces of earth lay in mounds all around us leaving a trail of where she has been and where she has gone. I rise to my feet and check those around me. Only to find the worst of what I could have expected. Laying there dead I am the only one to have survived what I assume will be the first of many more causalities to come.

Why? Why did she spare me of them all? Because she broke into my mind and found out I was right? Was it pure luck? Courage is measured by our willingness to throw ourselves back in the fire. Not by our ability to survive. As I stand among the dead I don’t find the courage to run back into the fire. Maybe she was right. Maybe we deserved this all along. We had to have known deep down inside that this was only going to go one way. Did we protect her out of fear or did we do it out of compassion? Her power set wasn’t like ours. It wasn’t controllable like ours. It wasn’t our call to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. We never gave her the choice. We only suppressed what we didn’t know. Painted ourselves the heroes when we were the villains all along. What I must do is not courageous. It is not the right side of right. What I have to do is finish what we should have done in the first place. God’s cannot walk among us. Unchecked they will destroy everything that we have built for ourselves. Kicking what is left of the earth around me I take the steps need to move closer to the fire. Running blindly once again into the flames for the idea of right and the pursuit of all that is wrong. I must finish what we already started.

Layne Ambrose

Some times our actions cause more harm than good… sometimes being “right” really means that we are wrong… so what is the right answer?… To continue to be wrong?… or prove to ourselves and everyone else that we were right all along?… these are the actions and thoughts that we face all the time… The surface is only worth face value… and our actions… our choices… often dig deeper than the surface… not telling you how to think… only that you should…

Because there is no answer… there is no right way to be… there is no set of rules for us to follow… because the world is chaos… but it is up to us to provide the order… to define or redefine it… no one will do it for us… Order breeds chaos and chaos breeds order… it is somewhere in between that we survive…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Waiting For You Down Here… Broken Thoughts…

Held my head down in the water too long
A foggy, thickness that made no sense
Nothing gets in below the surface
Hollowed out existence
Submerged below everything around me
Thought it was you, knew it was only me
Pulling the reigns, tying the noose
Could say I was suffering but I was
Only living in a world of my own creation
Could say anything meant more than it did
Because it didn’t held so far under the waves

I’m just trying to stay calm in a world that doesn’t know what that means…

Held my face too close to the flames
A burning, suffocation that made no sense
Nothing gets to me beyond the screams
Suffering out existence
Engulfed by everything around me
Thought it was you, knew it was only me
Nailed in place, lighting the flames
Could say I was suffering but I was
Only living in a world of my own creation
Could say anything meant more than it did
Because it didn’t burning on the stake

Order and chaos… chaos and order… never stops breeding…

Held my face too close to the ground
A familiar, emptiness that makes no sense
Nothing gets to me down here
Sleeping off existence
Surrounded by everything around me
Thought it was you, knew it was only me
Laying in place, succumbing to fate
Could say I was suffering but I was
Only living in a world of my own creation
Could say anything meant more than it did
Because it didn’t burying myself under all these feelings

Broken Thoughts
Layne Ambrose

I guess this could have been a poem… started off as a Broken Thought… that became something more… influenced heavily by my next poem book…Teething on Concrete… which may or may not be out by now… I’m never sure what it is I am doing… I’m a very focused… and somehow unfocused person… maybe it comes from only sleeping a few hours at a time… maybe I have always been this way… maybe I’m broken in some way… Anything is possible and here we are…

Pretty boring here at the moment… working on working on more work… so work on top of work… trying to get some stuff done… so I can move on… and work on more stuff?… Does it ever end?… I’m sure it will one day… not looking forward to that day though… deep breath… life is something else…

Stay safe… and create everything… I’ll be waiting for you down here…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Now Available

The Collection Continues…
On Kindle and Paperback
Even More Stories…

Strangers To Ourselves
My Nightmare
More Thoughts…

Broken
Demented
More of Everything You’d Expect…
From The Twisted Mind Of Layne Ambrose…

Pick Up Your Copy Today

Teeth Scrapping… Teething On Concrete…

It Has Arrived…

Is That A Funeral? Proudly Announces The Next Great Chapter In All Things Layne Ambrose…

A Poetry Collection Like No Other…

Seriously…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

Here…

Scarping its way into the world. Teething On Concrete is the newest collection of poetry by Layne Ambrose. Sobering, haunting, and downright depressing. Ambrose takes us on a journey the only way he knows how. Across the razor blades of his mind. Ambrose’s take on what it means to live will not be forgotten any time soon. Whether you are preaching, kneeling, or teething on concrete this collection is here to satisfy all your needs.

“Putting this down wasn’t much of an option.”
M.T. Billings, Shaky Town Rebellion

“Jesus…”
Sylvia Ambrose, Cover Artist

“Concrete never tasted so good.”
Korbin Copy, Is That A Funeral?

Teething On Concrete

Misunderstood The Day Once Again… Something Different…

Standing Here

Tearing at the edges, pulled apart but I won’t give up
Forcing out the thoughts that have built up
The ones about life, the ones that put me here
Right or wrong still standing right here
Would I change anything if I knew
If I thought it would erase this hurt, pain, thoughts
Reading through old pages as though they are new
I don’t know
Who are we, who am I
Thoughts stacked up over time
Waiting to be washed away
Page for page, moments in time
God only gives us as much as we can handle
Volumes of dead trees about how I feel
What’s the point of all these thoughts
Drifting in the wind, tear them out
Sliding down the hill, give in already
Drowning in the lake, head above the clouds
I don’t see heaven, but I can see hell
Burning every part, scorching the skin left in place
Smoking filling the lungs, ashes left in the dark
If god knows why, why won’t they say
Left with nothing but questions and doubts
Leading up to something or nothing at all?
Tearing at the edges, trying to think of what to say
Forcing out the feelings I feel inside
The ones about life, the ones that put me here
Right or wrong watching them burn
Edge for edge, thought for thought, truth or lie
Doesn’t matter as long as it leaves me standing here
I don’t know, I guess

Layne Ambrose

I plan my days in advance… then I try to fit them into some sort of schedule… hints why there is a depressing poem about life on a holiday about being thankful… in the US of course… I wasn’t trying to be ironic… but it seems the world is serendipitous to my intentions… this cycle hits some other holidays as well… so it seems this will be a theme this year… can’t say I care very much… but I did at least notice at the last minute…

So in the spirit of the day… I thought I should share things I am grateful for… my family of course… for putting up with my bull shit on a day to day basis… if you think this website is anything… too depressing… too vulgar… to dark… haha… well this is edited… so you are welcome… if you don’t think any of those things… well you are probably a family member… and you are also welcome… : )

I also want to say thank you to everyone who has bought a book… or all of them… to anyone who has bought a shirt… a sticker… or anyone who has decided that they need a new wardrobe… to each and everyone of you who hits “Like” or leaves a comment… all these things may seem small or unimportant… but any and all of your support… means the world to me… thank you… from the bottom of my cold heart…

I couldn’t do any of this without you all… I get lost in my selfishness sometimes… but you are all still very much on my mind… front and center… So thank you to all my… family… friends… and everyone in between… Enjoy the day… holiday or not… enjoy each and every day… because we only get so many… I just want you to know… it is a pleasure spending even the tiniest of these moments with you… hope all is well…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Stickers… Shirts… So Much More…
Get The Word Out Any Way You’d Like…

Thank You…